The Good Life
by Straiya
Summary: A story about RJ and his family woodland animals living the good life in the suburbs five years after the movie. Featuring a wild party, a cursed American Marten, a man in dark glasses, several romantic misadventures and the conspiracy to take it all away
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Five Years On

Illuminated by the soft pink-orange glow of the dawn sun, barely five minutes risen, the small grey-brown raccoon named RJ sat on a small black and blue golf bag with his back against the rough surface of a tree. With an idle stare toward the patch of mint-green grass blades between his legs, he chewed on fresh bite out of the double chocolate chip cookie held tightly in his fore-paws; not the most nutritious breakfast choice admittedly but damn those humans for filling it with so much sugary, chocolate goodness that it was practically irresistible to even the snobbiest of tastes.

Apart from the occasional rush of a motor vehicle somewhere behind the towering dark green hedge in front of him and the persistent twittering emanating from the frost coated leaves and branches of the lush woodland behind him, RJ was pretty much alone. In fact he had been that way for the best part of the last ninety-one days. That much alone time had grown tedious within the first twenty-four hours let alone the remaining two thousand one-hundred and eighty-four that he had spent in voluntary solitude braving the relentless pelt-shredding snow storms and bone chilling sleet while his new found friends hibernated in the safety and comfort of their log. Well, that was the story he was going to tell them anyway.

In truth he'd spent the entire winter hiding out in the back of a bakery downtown with another raccoon, who as it turned out had been treating the place as a kind of winter hideout for a lot longer than RJ had been in El Rancho Camelot. At first she had hadn't proven very hospitable but RJ had been able to negotiate a deal using nothing but wit and charm. Surprisingly it wasn't very long before their little truce turned to cohabitation; often sharing plenty of avid, often seamy conversations while they feasted on the variable smorgasbord of unwanted cakes and pastries in the garbage cans in the alley outside. Obviously he had had make up the whole "alone against the elements" story because the reality somehow lacked the heroic edge that he was going for.

With a sly smile RJ rested his head against the tree and threw the final chocolaty chunk into the air, watching with intense concentration as it arced above him, bounced off the tree and fell into his open mouth, breathing a contented sigh into the air as he chewed the final piece of the delectable, 'all natural' mixture of sugar, flour, water, eggs, butter, cocoa powder and two different kinds of chocolate chips.

"_You can't improve on nature_; hah, so true," he remarked with a chuckle, as he proceeded to brush of some the crumbs that had fallen into the downy, white fur that covered the entire front portion of his body from his groin up to his nose.

It was shame that no one ever seemed to be around to hear those, or maybe it was good thing, he couldn't quite tell sometimes; people tended to react differently to his perception of life's pleasures and the methods one should use to acquire them, especially since these methods usually consisted of just two concurrent actions: _smash_ and _grab. _

"What is so funny?" a voice asked.

RJ leapt to his feet, alive and alert.

"Wh- who's there?" he called out, unable to hide the slight tremble in his voice.

"Relax raccoon, it is but I, Tigerias," the voice answered in a distinct Middle Eastern accent.

The raccoon's gaze snapped upward into the branches above where the voice appeared to be coming from. Just a few feet above him on one of the lower branches stood a slightly overweight Persian cat staring back down at RJ with an amused smile, his large, puffy, white body held upright on the branch by the grip of his razor sharp claws.

Grabbing a handful of the fur on his own chest, RJ let out a massive sigh of relief;

the cat was indeed Tiger. A flat-faced, short tempered but generally good natured cat with complete anosmia, who five years ago had left his life of luxury as pet to Gladys Sharp, the now_ ex_-president of the Homeowner's Association for El Rancho Camelot Estates, to join RJ's rag tag gang of woodland animals. Of course this had nothing to do with the raccoon himself but more a deep, and to RJ completely incomprehensible, passion for a skunk named Stella who had played the part of temptress in the one of the gang's biggest heists to date.

"Why'd you sneak up me like that man?" RJ called back

"RJ, I don't sneak, I stalk. Sneaking is for scavengers," Tiger replied, "Scavengers like you."

"I guess that makes you better than me, eh?"

"Immeasurably so."

"Hah, I think you're gonna' need a second opinion on that one buddy," RJ replied, "Hey, shouldn't you be with Stella or somethin'?"

"Oh how I would love for that to be so," Tiger answered, casting wistful gaze into the heavens, "But alas my love still sleeps and I must wait for her glorious rise."

"Oh yeah, you cats don't hibernate do ya'?" said RJ.

"Of course not," Tiger answered.

"Me neither."

"Ah yes, no rest for the wicked is there?" Tiger responded contemptuously, "Knock over any good garbage cans this winter or maybe you perhaps preferred the scraps in the dog food bowls?"

"Oh stop," RJ replied in false abashment.

Tiger merely rolled his eyes and turned toward the hedge.

"Hey where you goin', we're just getting started here?" RJ called to tiger as the cat padded away across the grass.

"As much I do love this little get together I'm afraid I actually have somewhere to be," Tiger replied, pausing just in front of the hedge.

"Where?"

"Anywhere you and I are not talking!" and with that final remark Tiger disappeared into the towering leafy mass.

'_Heh, __man that cat is one strange mammal,'_ RJ thought to himself as he reached down to pick up the blue and black miniature golf bag on which he had been sitting, _'Why the heck was he followin' me anyway?' _

There really was no point in pondering that question now. After all he would probably never figure it out anyway.

Sliding the bag strap over his right shoulder so that it ran down and wrapped around again at his waist like a small blue sash, RJ turned and headed away from the hedge and into the woodland. It wasn't a very thick forest, the trees were pretty widely spaced with very little undergrowth save for the grass that grew practically every where in tightly bunched patches and most of the winter snow had melted away by now leaving only a few lumps speckled across the landscape like shiny white landmines which RJ was wary to avoid. The grass itself was freezing and damp with melting frost which began to saturate the fur on RJ's hind paws as he moseyed through the woods whistling a jazzy little tune he'd heard on one of the many infomercials from the shopping channel. Unfortunately, entering from the west hedge effectively meant that he had to trek all the way through the woods to the east side, so it took him almost an hour to reach his destination, but it really wasn't any trouble at all for a raccoon on a sugar high from fourteen fresh-baked triple choc cookies and a full can of Mach 7 double-caffeinated energy drink and eventually RJ pushed his way through the last blanket of vine laden plant skeletons and walked out into the middle of a wide grove.

He now found himself surrounded by clear open air and an undisturbed blanket of frost coated grass blades that literally shimmered in the morning sunlight. Several feet ahead of him, atop a small incline he spotted the east-side of the hedge and to his right he eyed a small rippling pond with a sparse covering of flowering water lilies across which skimmed a multitude of multicolored aquatic insects. Turning to his left, RJ saw the large hollow tree log that lay just at edge of the woodland and he quietly ambled over to one of the openings to peek inside. Unsurprisingly he found it to be stuffed with tightly packed mass of dead leaves, which appeared to be snoring as well as being perforated by whole bunch of protruding limbs covered in a variety of fur colors. He knew all to well who these belonged to, especially the bushy, orange tail and for a few moments he stood and stared, suddenly gripped by an incredible temptation to tug on it and cracking a small grin at the thought of that particular mammal's reaction.

'_Maybe next time__,'_ he thought to himself as he slid the blue golf bag over his head and quietly set it down at the mouth of the log's cave-like interior.

Taking a few steps back from the log, RJ turned away and started toward one of the nearby trees with the most casual gait he could manage. By now all the caffeine from the Mach 7 drink had well and truly hit home and for RJ this meant the not so sudden onset of an all too familiar sensation. At first it been more of slight niggle at the back of his mind that he had found readily ignorable but as time passed the pressure had continued to build and without any more distractions it now hit him with full force.

"Ahhhhhh!" he exclaimed as the small yellow stream began to pitter-patter onto the side of a willow tree, "Sorry pal but when ya' gotta go, well, you know." As the pressure rapidly began to ebb away RJ began to relax his stance a little, gazing up into the overhanging mass of willow leaves. "Don't worry, I hear takin' a wiz on you's supposed to be good for you guys," RJ continued, in full awareness of the fact that he was talking to a tree, "I dunno why but the humans seem to think so. Something' about ammonia or some sciency stuff like that."

After shaking off the last few drops, RJ headed toward a small gap in the bushes at the north-west edge of the grove, ducking under some low hanging coniferous branches as he entered yet another small clearing. This one however was much smaller and much darker beneath a thick canopy of flourishing vegetation through which shone only a few flickering rays of sunlight. As usual there were a couple of beach towels draped over some nearby branches next to which stood a large green sign that read Welcome Home, and beyond that were numerous pieces of stolen human equipment. Perhaps the most noticeable item of this inventory of pilfered possessions was the large flat-screen television that was sitting atop a cardboard box, placed just in front of a small group of cushions and beanbags that in turn were clustered around a purple toddler car seat, or as RJ liked to call it, his throne.

"Heh, heh, home sweet home," RJ remarked, as he walked over to the box and snatched up the remote before flopping down into his seat.

Admittedly he was a little curious as to why, or more importantly how, the protective garbage bag had already been removed from the T.V but knowing this woodland it could have been anyone and RJ was not about to waste his precious free time interviewing every single animal out of the multitude of creatures which called the forest home. Unless the television wasn't working that is, then someone was going to have to pay up. Fortunately though, as RJ pushed the tiny red ON/OFF button on the remote the television flashed to life instantly and the sound of a wild police chase began to emanate from the television speakers.

"…and with his vehicle now rendered unserviceable the suspect makes for the embankment on foot but little does he know…" for no discernable reason the narration continued to graphically describe the on-screen image of a young man in a checkered flannel shirt and blue denim jeans as he raced across a road toward a grassy hill with two overweight police officers struggling to pursue him.

He recognized the show instantly as _The World's Deadliest Police Chases_, a huge favorite of the porcupine triplets and RJ himself, but this particular episode also happened to be the same one that he had viewed through a store window last night so he quickly flicked it over to another channel and was suddenly made witness to a screen full of human women clad in scandalously revealing black leather brassieres who were dancing around what appeared to be a fire station.

'_Score!' _RJ thought as he found himself starring wide-eyed at the group of human females who's every inch of artificially tanned skinned dripped with sweat as they pushed their chests and behinds toward the screen and sang in whispered tones about some boy they were inviting back to their place. _'I know your human baby, but man I'd take you up on that offer anyway,'_ and he began to formulate, through swirling images in his own mind, just a few possible ways in which he could go about it.

Suddenly the song began to fade out and the four promiscuous women were replaced by an ecstatic looking young man with spiked blonde hair, who looked like he was barely out of his teens. "Welcome back to MTV sunrise session and that was the Honeybeasts with 'Be My Fireman' from their début album 'Raw Sugar'. Next we have 'Rosetint' with the classic love anthem 'Forever You'-"

"Oh no we don't," RJ stated with scowl as he switched to the next channel, thoroughly crestfallen by the sudden departure of the awesome foursome and their highly entertaining use of fire-hoses.

For the next few minutes nothing particularly eye catching appeared as RJ partook in a brief channel surf before he finally switched over to the information index and began scrolling through the extensive list of channels and the programs they were currently presenting.

"Hey put on the news wouldjya'," said a slightly nasally voice with the strong Minnesotan accent that could only belong to Lou the porcupine, which RJ confirmed as he turned to his right and saw the bristly, light brown forms of not just Lou but his mate Penny as well; both of whom looked very drowsy and disheveled.

"Hey guys, what's shakin'" RJ called jovially, hitting the select button as the CNN channel was highlighted in yellow. In an instant the screen was filled by the image of a clean-cut man wearing a navy blue suite and similarly colored tie standing in front of a satellite shot of the Central America that was speckled with tiny symbols and numbers, "Looks like your just in time for the weather."

Lou merely responded with a yawn as he set himself down on one of the beanbags, and Penny did the same, both of them remaining pretty much silent with their chocolate brown eyes glued to the television screen.

"…and it looks like it's gonna be yet another sunlight shimmering day in L.A, with some sparse cloud moving in from off the coast later in the afternoon. Now as we move to the mid-west we can expect to see clear skies for most of the region, with some unseasonable lows expected for some central states thanks to that high pressure system which has been moving across from the west coast since last Tuesday but it looks as if some coastal areas might be in for shower or two..."

The presenter's voice began to fade into the background as RJ quickly found himself zoning, out despite his best efforts. He'd always found weather reports extremely boring since it was usually just the same-old-same-old with the occasional thunderstorm warning that never seemed to yield anything more than brief shower. He found it far more entertaining just to stare blankly toward the screen as he once again began fantasize about the four smoking hot babes from MTV. Yes they were humans, but it was springtime and man were his hormones going crazy this year, especially having spent the past five summers with nothing but himself, his paw and late night animal planet. Of course he'd had a few liaisons with various females during the winters, but the other two hundred and seventy-four days were torture.

"Jeepers!" exclaimed Penny.

For a moment RJ sat frozen in terror at the possibility that his brief fantasy may have woken up little RJ, but he was quick to realize, with immense relief, that Penny was still watching the T.V and was not gazing at anything between his legs.

"Didja hear that RJ?" Lou asked, turning to face the mildly stunned raccoon.

"H-hear what," RJ stammered.

"Them weather folks say we're in fer a bit o' nasty turn, a storm no less," Lou replied with slightly concerned tone, "Ya' think we should get ready."

"Let's leave that one up to Verne. He's the expert on worrying," RJ replied, "Where is old Verno anyway?"

"I think he's still in the log with the others," answered Penny "Why, ya' think we should wake em' up?"

"Nah, he needs a good rest. I swear he'd have stroke if he didn't have the winter hibernation to calm him down," RJ said as he stood up out of the chair and started back toward the grove, but pausing halfway to the exit, "Hey you guys seen Heather around?"

"No, uh, wait, actually, now thatcha' mention it, she was up kinda early," said Lou.

"More like a week early," Penny added, "I think the spring's finally startin' to get to her; she's at that age you know. When ya' really notice all the cute boys-"

"And those boy's start to notice all the fine lookin' girls," Lou cut in, gazing into his partner's eyes with a loving smile.

Penny laughed, "Oh Lou."

"Oh brother," RJ muttered under his breath as he turned away from the impending smooch-fest and continued toward the exit, ducking beneath the branches again as he walked out into a sunlit clearing.

About an hour had past but it was still pretty much the same as when he'd arrived, only now the sun sat a little higher in the sky and the grove was occupied by a variety of mammals who were walking around the clearing going about their usual wake-up rituals. Two out of three of Penny and Lou's now sixteen year old triplets were sitting by the food wagon, which was by now pretty much empty, each chowing down on one of the remaining breakfast burritos. Verne, a nervous, neurotic box-turtle, Stella and Tiger were standing by the pond apparently just chatting, and for once Verne seemed pretty relaxed, heck he was actually laughing at something. RJ walked further into the clearing and caught sight of third and final triplet, Quillo, behind the log making out with Mitchell, her boyfriend of about five months; as usual, Hammy was nowhere to be seen, although RJ was pretty certain that he was out searching in vain for the nuts he'd buried the previous year; honestly, why did he even bother? A few seconds later RJ spotted Ozzie, a mostly white-grey opossum and manically paternal father of one, who was currently lying on his stomach on the opposite side of the pond seemingly asleep. Sitting next to him at the edge the pond, with her hind paws in the water and her snowy-white fur sticking out at all angles like an old straw broom, was his daughter, Heather.

RJ casually strolled past the three chattering animals, giving a quick hello nod to Verne who replied with a smile and small wave, and began to circle the pond toward two opossums.

"'Sup Heather," RJ said as he approached, "Hey Ozman."

Ozzie weakly raised a paw in acknowledgment, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like hello.

"So how was hibernation?" RJ said as he sat down next to Heather allowing his hind-paws to join hers in the cool water, "Penny told me you were up pretty early this year, why's that?"

Heather didn't answer.

"Heather?" RJ asked, and he clicked his fingers next to her ear a couple of times in the hopes of raising her attention, "Hey Heather, talk to me. Are you ignoring me on purpose or something?" He waited a few seconds for a response but still Heather ignored him, "What? Is it something I did, something I said… something Verne said about me, something I said about Verne?"

Heather snuffed loudly and for second RJ thought he'd roused her attention, but it only turned out to be sneeze after which the young opossum returned her attention to the water. It was then that he noticed the small wire running down from her ear, and as he leant forward to investigate he noticed another one running from the other ear, both of them meeting and forming a single black line at her navel, where they then curved around to the other side of her body, most likely connecting to a Walkman or the like. He immediately reached forward and yanked the nearest one from her ear.

"Ow, hey, what the hell dad!" Heather exclaimed.

RJ couldn't help but smile as she faced him with a look of immense annoyance only to have her frown immediately change to a sheepish simper as she realized who he was and quickly turned away in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry RJ," She mumbled.

RJ chuckled, "Don't worry about it. What are ya' listening too?"

"Um," Heather grabbed the player peered at it for a moment, "Greenday."

"Never heard of 'em," said RJ.

"They're pretty good," Said Heather, "Wanna' listen?"

"Uh, maybe later," RJ replied, "How was winter?"

Heather gave a loud yawn, "And that's my final answer," she giggled.

RJ laughed, "That bad eh? Well how about next year you join me for the winter. I'll show you all my favorite places like the bakery and the alley behind the supermarket, and when Christmas rolls around we can go dumpster diving for presents. Oh yeah, you've gotta' see Halloween, all the humans get dressed up in all this weird stuff, just so you can laugh at 'em, and best of all there's candy all over the place, in bags, in the trash, in the cars, in the street, it's _everywhere_. Think about it Heather, no hibernation, no stinky log, no Verne."

"Oh gee RJ, I'd love too but," Heather replied, turning to look at her father, who seemed to be pretty much asleep to RJ, before leaning in so close that her breath tickled his ear as she whispered into it, "Will there be anything else?"

A mischievous grin rapidly spread across RJ's face as he turned and looked directly into Heather's shimmering, sapphire eyes, and that in itself appeared to be answer enough for her as she leant forward as if to press her mouth against RJ's. The raccoon himself responded in kind bringing his own muzzle closer and closer to Heather's so close he could almost taste it. But suddenly a wide grin spread across RJ's face and he pulled away, chuckling loudly; he just couldn't bring himself to go any further, he just couldn't, not her.

"YES!" Heather cried, throwing her arms into the air in triumph, "I am the king of kiss chicken!"

"Don't you mean queen?" RJ chuckled.

"King sounds better," Heather replied, and RJ had to admit she was probably right.

A grassy brushing sound began behind them accompanied by a deep yawn, and RJ turned to see Ozzie sitting up behind them, and boy, if Lou and Penny had looked tired this opossum was positively beat. From the heavily matted condition of his fur to the crimson lines that spider webbed across both his eyes, it was hard to spot any part of him that looked even remotely healthy.

"Whoa, what ran over you?" RJ exclaimed, and he could hear Heather vainly trying to stifle a giggle behind him.

Ozzie gave a weak smile, "Good morning to you too RJ," he replied.

"I'm just saying, you look like you just spent an hour in the ring with Nugent."

"Who?"

"C'mon, you know Nugent the Rottweiler?" said RJ, but Ozzie just shook his head, "Uh, you know, the big ugly dog thing on 2nd avenue."

"No, nothing."

"Man how old are you, honestly?" RJ remarked, grinning slightly as Ozzie threw a dangerous glare his way, "Aw c'mon Oz, where's the fun?"

"Hmm, I think I left it in the food wagon. I'll just go get then shall I?" Ozzie replied, still frowning a little but RJ could see the sides of the possum's mouth twitching a little as he tried to hold back a grin.

Ozzie immediately got up and began making his way around the pond, toward the little red wagon where Spike and Bucky had now finished their breakfast burritos and moved on to a pack of caramel coated wafers.

Heather sighed, "You might want to watch your mouth around him RJ. My dad's actually getting a little sensitive about his age," she said.

"How old is he again?"

"Well, I just had my twenty-first pouch day and dad _says_ he was about twenty-eight or twenty-nine when I was born, so he's about forty-nine now."

RJ gave an impressed whistle.

"Oh, come on he's not _that_ old," said Heather, and RJ immediately began to laugh, "Well how old are you then wise-guy?"

RJ immediately fell silent having just been blindsided by a question that he himself hadn't actually given much thought to.

'_That's a good question,"_ RJ thought to himself.

"Well?" Heather asked, with a cunning smile.

'_Okay RJ think, think! You left mom when you were thirteen, met Vincent, wait did I meet Vincent then… no that was a way later. Uh, when did I get the flu thing? __…sixteen? No fifteen. When did Terry dump me again, six or seven years, either way that means I was twenty something when I found those quarters by the vending machine outside Vincent's cave, and that's when…Oh hell no! Thirty-two!" _

"Thirty-two?" Heather exclaimed, making RJ realize that he had accidentally said that last part out-loud, "Wow, that's like way younger than I thought!"

RJ gave Heather a questioning look; she'd actually thought he was older than that!

"What the, how, the heck?" RJ ineloquently stammered, "Is it the fur, the ears, it's gotta be the ears, it's the ears isn't it?"

Heather laughed, "God you can be an idiot sometimes."

RJ opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by another adolescent voice as it entered the conversation followed very closely by another equally young voice.

"Hey uncle RJ!"

"Hey dude!"

RJ smiled broadly as he turned to the two teenage porcupines, Spike and Bucky, both of whom bore a short coat of fur that was exactly the same shade of brown as the parents and for some reason insisted on referring to RJ as their uncle despite the fact that he'd only met them five years ago and was certainly of no relation to them at all.

"Hey guys," he replied.

"Hi Bucky, hey Spike," said Heather.

"Hi Heather," they replied in unison.

"Sooo, how are my favorite pincushions?" RJ asked, reaching forward to wipe some burrito sauce off Bucky's face.

"Great."

"Super-duper, hey watch it there," said Bucky, also appeared to be adopting his father's accent as well as becoming a near carbon-copy in terms of appearance, "Watchu guys doin' over here."

Spike leaned in close to RJ and whispered into his ear, "You still trying to hit that?"

RJ merely responded with a sly wink and Spike immediately started sniggering.

"Hey Spike, what's so funny?" asked Heather.

"Oh it's nothing. You know how these guys are," RJ said shrugging.

Heather started eyeing RJ suspiciously.

"Uh, hey guys guess what I got for you!" RJ spouted in a desperate attempt to break the tension.

Heather just smiled and rolled her eyes; the porcupines on the other hand went completely ballistic.

"Nice, presents!"

"Jeepers."

"Wicked cool!"

"Awesome."

"Alright, alright calm down and follow me, you too Heather," said RJ.

Heather immediately looked up in surprise, which in itself was little surprising to RJ, how could she possibly think that he'd forget about his best friend?

"Oh come on, how could I forget my golden girl?" RJ remarked, as he stood up in his place.

Heather smiled and grabbed her music player as she stood up next to him, "Promise you'll like, never call me that again."

RJ chuckled, "I would if I could," and with that he began to make way around the pond and toward the log where he'd left his golf bag, with the two porcupines chattering excitedly to one another behind him as they followed. Heather on the other hand walked beside RJ, mouthing the lyrics of whatever song she now had playing through the newly replaced earphones; some angsty, teenage punk-band by the sound of it.

The other animals in the family appeared to have dispersed, most likely having joined Penny and Lou watching the morning news, and the clearing was pretty much empty now except for Ozzie whose tail RJ could see protruding limply from the one end of log as he approached. Given the loud snoring sound now emanating from inside, the opossum had probably fallen back to sleep, and unwilling to wake him, RJ momentarily paused to shush Spike and Bucky, whose excited chatter was merely reduced to excited whispering. He then snatched up his bag and indicated for the Heather and the porcupines to follow him over to the pond where he promptly dropped it again and immediately began to rummage through it.

"Aha!' RJ exclaimed as he emerged from the pitch darkness with both paws wrapped around a small, tightly bound bundle of magazines, "All the latest issues of Millennium Gamer, Wired _and_ Motorhead!"

"Awesome!" the two porcupines cried in unison.

"And that's not all," RJ continued in his usual showy manner as he dropped the magazines into the waiting paws of the two ecstatic porcupines, before plunging his arm straight back into the bag, and giving a quick, meaningful glance in Heather's direction. Fortunately she appeared to get the message and hastily turned her back to proceedings, as RJ produced one last item; incidentally yet another, slightly smaller string-bound bundle of magazines. "You know what these are?" he asked, with a mischievous smile.

The porcupines' both nodded with wide eyed eagerness as their eyes fell upon the glossy sheets of the vividly illustrated and highly adult magazines.

"Whoa!" they both exclaimed.

"How'd ya' get those?" asked Bucky.

"Why'd you get them? We didn't ask or anything," said Spike, although RJ knew that was at best a downright lie as the two had been not-so-subtly hinting their desire for adult literature ever since they'd first discovered its existence amongst RJ's personal stash, which they had taken the liberty of pilfering almost four months ago.

RJ chuckled, "Well you're both growing boys and, well, I'm sure you know the rest."

Unsurprisingly the two porcupines shifted a little uneasily; and he could tell they knew what he meant. To be honest the memory of the three of them lying on the ground drunk, reeking of cheap booze and covered with the remnants of an assortment of alcoholic chocolates while being yelled at by their obviously furious parents was actually pretty funny. Of course RJ had only started seeing the humor in the whole incident after about two weeks of evil-eyes from Lou and Penny and almost three weeks having to get over his intense desire to beat the living snot out of the three of them.

"Just remember that this is a very special gift, the kind you _don't _go blabbing about to your folks, got it?" RJ stated under his breath.

"Got it," said Bucky.

"Well go on and have fun okay," said RJ, "Oh yeah, and, uh, keep it quiet, alright." RJ finished with a meaningful wink to the two of them.

Spike and Bucky just looked at him strangely for a moment before racing off with the periodicals clasped tightly in their paws.

"So, you finished degrading the youth and violating their parents' trust yet?" Heather asked with a sarcastic smile, as she turned around to face RJ who wasn't exactly surprised to see that one of her earphones had been removed and hence she been listening to the entire thing.

RJ just gave a confident laugh "Not just yet," and with that he once again plunged at least half of his body into the pitch dark depths of his miniature golf bag.

"Oh you got me some porn as well? God RJ, why don't you just go grab your camera and I'll get really drunk, then you can take all the pictures you want and we can just cut out the middleman?"

"Very tempting, Heather, maybe some other time, but in the mean time I think you should have this," RJ responded, emerging for the final time with a small bottle filled with a pale yellow liquid, clutched tightly in his right paw.

"What the heck is that?" Heather asked as she leant in for a closer look.

"You know I can't remember what it's called but the humans like the stuff, they like it a lot," RJ replied, "It's what their females wear when they go out on dates and stuff like that. They just spray a little on themselves before they hit town."

"It looks like someone pissed in the bottle," Heather remarked dryly.

Although he was little hurt, RJ tried not to let it show and just kept on smiling as he continued, "It's supposed to make you smell nice. You know, it being spring an' all I just thought you'd, you know, like to smell good for the guys. Well the guys you're going to meet and well…"

Heather scoffed, "And like, how many male possums have you seen around here lately. Like in the last five _years_."

RJ opened his mouth to comment but Heather cut across him,

"Exactly. _None_! Not a single one. And you think that I need Casanova himself to come over here and not only remind that it's springtime, but rub it in my face with some fancy smelling liquid and mouth off about all the guys that I _won't _ever get in my whole fricken life!" Heather paused giving a widely grinning RJ a puzzled look.

"I'm not buying it," he remarked.

"Where did I lose you?" Heather asked, her prior frown replaced by a curious smile.

"Uh about four and half times last fall," RJ replied with a smirk, he was of course referring to the culmination of Heather's relationship with her latest boyfriend, Keith.

Although she had tried her best to keep the latest step in their relationship a secret, RJ had been pretty quick to catch on, incidentally so had Ozzie, although Heather only knew that RJ knew, which in itself was actually pretty amusing because the two of them still went out of their way every time to assure Ozzie that the relationship was still completely superficial. In these moments RJ and Ozzie would usually exchange sarcastic winks whenever Heather wasn't looking.

"Shut up," Heather exclaimed, casting a wary glance toward her father who was still soundly asleep in the log, "Just give me the damn thing before dad wakes up."

RJ quickly passed the bottle into her waiting paws, "Here ya' go kiddo," he whispered.

Heather immediately started toward the northwest clearing, stopping just short of the conifer overlooking the entrance.

"Wait, what do I do with it?" she asked.

"You spray it on yourself," RJ replied, "Just a little though, it's pretty strong stuff."

"Spray on, got it," Heather said, giving RJ a wink of acknowledgment before she turned around and disappeared into the underbrush.

RJ sighed and grabbed up his bag, quickly snatching out a small piece of notepaper before sliding it over his shoulder again. On the notepaper was a crudely drawn map of a nearby suburb, sketched by RJ himself, with a number of the houses circled in red. It was these houses that he intended to target for the family's heists this year, and being situated in one of the previously untapped areas they were especially poorly guarded, so if all went well RJ expected to have the food stores full before the week was out. He was particularly eager to get this gathering season out of the way as soon as possible because, quite frankly, he had far more important things on his mind this year, first and foremost being to find himself a new set of golf clubs since his current set were beginning to wear a bit and the chrome finish that he had so dearly treasured had long since weathered away.

With that RJ immediately set off toward the conifer tree under which Heather had disappeared, already mentally preparing his usual season beginning speech to the rest of the family.

* * *

**At last I have finally managed to finish chapter 1 after so much revision and procrastination. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**It might take me a while to finish Chapter 2 since I've decided to go fishing for the parts of the original comic written between 1995 and 2000; if by any chance anyone here knows where I could find them then please send me PM with the details because for the life of me I cannot find anything, and don't bother sending me to hedgeweb .com coz, all pangs of nostalgia aside, that sight is officially dead. Lord knows I wish I knew then what I knew now, but the movie was 11 years in the future and it took a further 2 for me to start giving a crap. CURSE MY YOUTH!!!**

Yes, I do hope to compromise between the comic and the movie in this story, and call me crazy if you want, but I am actually trying to research what I'm writing about.


	2. Chapter 2

**And here, for anyone who still cares, is chapter two.**

**FYI: Luby and Velma are both characters from the comic strip and to an extent so is Jay the Blue Jay, although he is only a supporting character who's name is never actually mentioned in the comic as far as I can tell so I just picked the first thing that popped into my head.**

* * *

Chapter 2

Heists, Monsters and Blueberry Soda

From his position wedged into a tree-fork about twenty feet above the ground, RJ peered through a pair of binoculars at the near infinite sprawl of urban sameness that was El Rancho Camelot with his gaze fixed upon one house in particular. As far as he could see there were no signs of activity inside or outside, a fact he found not the least bit surprising for a Sunday morning. A whole life in close contact with humans had taught him that it was this day that humans were either away at church or taking the more Old Testament approach and sleeping in; either way it provided a perfect opportunity to sneak in and nick their stuff. The house upon which he looked now belonged to the Nicholsons, whose preferred Sunday morning fell into the first category, making their house the target for today's first scavenging run. Admittedly raiding human homes so directly was something neither he nor the other animals did very often. It was dangerous and took a lot of planning but the hauls were always big and the stuff they managed to steal was usually top-notch, as opposed to just snatching food left lying around by careless humans or raiding garbage cans; not exactly haute cuisine but a heck of a lot safer.

The heist itself was to begin in just a few minutes but RJ had opted to do a little reconnaissance first. Not something he'd usually bother doing but this was the North side, a suburb not previously traversed by the woodland animals, and what's worse was that the crack team he'd assembled were largely greenhorns. In fact right now Heather and Jay were busy giving them a crash course in scavenging basics.

Lowering the binoculars, RJ quickly jotted down a few more notes on the mission plan as well drawing a large circle around a wonky square that represented the back laundry window on the crudely drawn house diagram, having just noticed that it was indeed open. With a sigh he replaced the lid on the biro he was holding, leant back against the tree trunk and returned his gaze to the house, this time without the binoculars. After five years he'd pretty much settled in nicely here. He knew many of woodland animals and even those he didn't, seemed to know him, especially the children who hailed him as some kind of urban prodigy. Although his ego had been swelling nicely over the years because of it, being asked, nay forced to recite 'RJ the Bear Slayer' for the nineteen-bazillionth time did get a little irritating, especially when it interrupted _Survivor._

Suddenly RJ felt a soft breeze begin to blow against his ear accompanied by the rhythmic beating of tiny wings and a subsequent rustling sound as a bird landed on the branch above him.

"Whew!" a voice exclaimed.

"Hey Jay," said RJ, drawing his gaze upward until it fell upon the bright blue plumage of the bird in question, an unfortunately named Blue Jay with the reputation for being the biggest jerk in the suburb, a trait most animals attributed to his parents' most unimaginative choice of names.

"Hey Tubby," the bird replied, in his usual bored sounding man-voice.

"Nice to see you too."

"Gimme a break Tubs, I just spent the last twenty minutes helping Broomstick teach those little idiots how to work a window latch even though I _told_ you kids drive me nuts," said Jay, "After the first hundred times it was as much as I could do not to peck them all in their snot-nosed little faces."

"Aw c'mon they can't be that bad."

"Scotty pulled out one of my tail feathers, stuck it behind his ear and started singing Yankee-doodle!" he exclaimed.

"Okay, so it can be that bad. Tell you what, when we get back I'll go talk to his mommy for you, would you like that?"

"I swear if you were anyone else," Jay warned, his feathers ruffling visibly in annoyance.

RJ just chuckled, "C'mon man, out with it. Are we good to go or not?"

"As close as we'll ever be," Jay answered, "But forgive me if I still see 'certain doom' spelled out in forty foot high steel-reinforced concrete letters."

"Hey, Jay, my man" RJ began, throwing the binoculars into his bag along with the map and pen, "I don't want you gettin' all Vern on me, alright? It's his job to have a stroke, ours is to fill that wagon with all the food we can carry," he paused to grab the tree trunk and hurriedly scampered down into the grass below heading toward the large leafy barrier just a few feet away, "Ya' clear on that?"

"Crystal!" Jay answered dryly, "Hey, I know it sounds a little sudden an' all, but-"

"Hey whoa! You're not asking me out are ya'?" RJ asked, "Coz I don't know what you've heard about me but this raccoon's one for the ladies."

"Dream on Tubby," said Jay, landing softly on RJ's left shoulder, "I just wanted to say that, well, you know about my girl, Sandy, right?"

"Uh, no I don't. I didn't think you had a girl?" RJ replied.

"Well I do and we've been together for what, a few months now, and things have been going real well lately and I was thinking about, you know, making things official."

RJ couldn't help raising an eyebrow, "You mean like, doing the bluebird yahoo?"

"Very funny Tubs," Jay replied, his voice thoroughly devoid of any kind of amusement, "I'm talking about sealing the deal, you know settle down, havin' chicks. The works."

"What! You're kiddin' me?"

"Hey some of us can say the word commitment without choking on it."

"Okay, first of all I wasn't choking; I was just coughing coz I swallowed a Twinky wrapper," RJ replied, ignoring Jay's sniggering, "And second, what's with all this mating for life crap. I mean c'mon, there's plenty of RJ to go around, why should any one girl get all the lovin' I got to offer. It's a travesty, I tells ya'."

"One girl? You haven't got any girls. The closest thing to score I've ever seen you have was at the Spring Bash last year when you ate too many Brandy Sensations, passed out and fell on top of Luby," Jay remarked with a mocking tone, "Face it Tubs, you're love-life's a joke."

"Hey, my life's a joke? You're the one who's getting hitched." RJ retorted, his voice beginning to rise, "And besides," he continued as they reached the hedge and turned to the left, walking parallel to the towering line of foliage, "Why the heck do you care anyway?"

"I don't," Jay replied, "But you should. Now I certainly aint complaining but, c'mon, the way you live you'll be lucky if you manage to push forty before you're pushing up daisies."

RJ stopped and frowned at the bluebird on his shoulder, "What's your point Jay?"

"My point is: Don't _you_ ever even in you're worst nightmares consider actually doing something with your life?"

"You mean settle down?" RJ asked, his frown deepening.

"All you do is sit around all day watching T.V and snarfing down snack cakes, how much more settled could you get?" Jay replied, "I'm talking the real deal; a mate, kids, the whole works."

At that RJ couldn't help bursting out into hysterical laughter. Him with a family? Who did Jay think he was? And then it occurred to him; Jay had never questioned RJ's sedentary lifestyle before, sure he poked fun at him a lot but that was just Jay being Jay. No, behind the Blue Jay's half-sincere morality speech he could easily make out the telltale sparkle of puppet strings and he already had a pretty good idea of who was pulling them.

"Okay Jay, seriously who put you up to this?" he asked as the laughter began to subside.

"Hey can't a Bluebird help a brother out without being coerced?" Jay asked, but RJ just raised his eyebrows in disbelief and as expected Jay sighed and continued in a whisper, "He told me not to tell you."

"Who, Verne?" RJ asked, lowering his voice as well, "It was Verne wasn't it?"

In response Jay just nodded toward the bushes behind him and RJ stopped to watch as Heather emerged from the shrubbery followed closely by a number of adolescent animals of several different species, three of whom were pulling a large, red wagon. RJ recognized one of them instantly as Heather's current boyfriend Keith, a seventeen year old opossum whose fur color was of much darker hue than Heather and her father; more of a dark, brownish-gray. Surprisingly Ozzie seemed to have accepted him rather readily, but RJ still stood by the opinion that the boy looked a bit too much like a teenage punk, although admittedly that seemed to be Heather's type.

"'Sup guys?" she asked cheerfully.

"Nothing, guy talk," Jay answered.

"Guy talk?"

"Yeah, you know, football, wrestling, Twinkies, pizza," RJ added, with an innocent grin.

"Right?" said Heather, eyeing them both strangely, "Well if you're done having your guy talk thing, we just want you to know that we're all ready and rearing here."

"Yeah c'mon lets do this," one of the animals called out, accompanied by a chorus of similar statements from the rest of the group.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there fellas, I gotta show you the plan first," announced RJ, sliding the bag off his shoulder, reaching in and snatching out the map as he temporarily dismissed the previous conversation from his mind, "Now listen carefully guys, this stuff could mean life or death out there."

The entire group immediately shuffled forward, every one of them seemingly at full attention, except for Keith who seemed far more interested in staring blankly into the sky.

"First we, come in through the hedge here," RJ began, pointing at a red dot he'd marked on the diagram, which was hopefully where they were now, "Then we all head for this window here," his paw moved to the laundry window he'd circled, "Now you're all gonna have to move really fast okay, we don't wanna get caught before we've started, got that?" a few heads nodded in agreement, "Alright, now when we get to the window, my man Jay here'll fly up to the roof and watch for the humans. I'll climb up the drain pipe here, go in through the window here and unlock the back door. I want all of you to be there when I open it, okay? Heather, make sure that happens."

"Sure thing RJ," Heather answered with an assuring wink.

"Alright, once the doors open I want, uh, you two," RJ pointed toward gopher and a ridiculous looking rabbit whose head fur appeared to be moussed into spikes and dyed green, "I want you guys to stand watch okay, don't let anyone or anything you don't know near the wagon. Beat em' if you have to."

"Awesome!" exclaimed the rabbit, who RJ now realized must belong to the gang of laughable little try-hards known as the Bad Bunnies.

"And then I want the rest of you to do one thing. Grab all the food you can carry and put it on the wagon and when I say everything, I mean _everything_. I want that thing piled higher than Mount Rushmore, got it?"

The entire group cheered loudly in agreement.

"Great, fantastic," RJ said, stuffing the map back into the bag before sliding it back over his shoulder, "Are there any questions."

Only one hand came up, and weirdly enough it belonged to Keith, who up until this point had remained completely silent. RJ pointed at him and nodded.

"Yeah, uh, what the heck are these critters 'sposed to do if them humans show up?" Keith asked, speaking with his usual strong southern accent.

"Good question Keith. Any guesses guys?"

"Easy. Run away like we always do," Heather stated.

"Right you are Heather. Ya' hear that guys? If the humans show, just run, run like your being chased by a rabid cougar, and don't stop until you're on the other side of the hedge," RJ answered confidently, "Anymore?"

No further hands rose.

"Great lets get g-" RJ began but Heather cut in.

"Wait a sec, I gotta do a quick roll call," she said.

RJ sighed, "Go ahead," he said, turning and taking a few steps away from the group while Heather announced a list of names, all of which were quickly followed by a simple "present!"

For about a minute or so he stood silently, watching Heather call out the names and ignoring Jay's restless flapping, which he could only assume was some kind of nervous habit, until the opossum finally turned to him and said, "All here."

It was then that RJ turned toward the hedge and took a deep breath, like he always did before a heist.

"Ready team?" he called back to the animals behind him who all immediately fell silent, "Alright, let's boogie!"

He then stepped forward into the hedge and pushed his way out onto the other side, his sights set firmly on the open window as he sprinted across the grassy yard toward the back of the house, the whole time with Jay clinging tightly to his shoulder. Upon reaching the back wall he immediately spun around to check that the others had made it. Fortunately the small gang was already running across the yard to meet him, and all appeared present and accounted for, including the all important red wagon.

RJ then turned to Jay who gave a quick nod before taking flight and disappearing over the roof, after which RJ then returned his attention to the mob of his fellow woodland bandits.

"Alright you know the plan. Go and wait by the door, I'm goin' in," he said, racing over to the column of aluminum piping that run up the south-eastern corner of the house, "And for God's sake keep out of sight!"

RJ watched for a few seconds as the small band, lead by Heather and Keith, obediently started toward the back door before turning his attention to the pipe he was about to climb. It looked pretty strong, fixed to the wall by several steel brackets, which RJ himself appreciated immensely because of their potential as stable hand and footholds, an easy climb if he ever saw one. With this is mind he grabbed a hold of the pipe, making sure to dig his claws in as tightly as he could to achieve the strongest possible grip and quickly began to scamper upwards, trying as best he could to minimize the tinking and scratching sounds of his claws as they clasped the metal piping.

When he finally drew parallel with the window sill, he soon realized that even though the window itself was only about eleven inches away the small wooden ledge he had to grab was jutting out barely two inches. A small jump, but tough none the less.  
For a few minutes RJ remained still, clinging tightly to pipe, taking deep calming breaths as he readied himself for the jump, flexing his paws and praying they would be strong enough to grab the ledge. After taking one final, deepest deep breath, RJ flung himself toward the window sill with all the strength he could muster. As he came down on the ledge he felt both paws hit the wood but only his left dug in, his right paw instead slid right off the sill causing his left arm to snap painfully at the elbow as it was forced to bear the full shock of his fall. Slightly shaken and pumped with a terrified burst of adrenalin, RJ swung his right paw back up and grabbed the ledge before slowly pulling himself up onto the window sill as he let fly a torrent of curses.

Thankfully the window was fully open and RJ was able to lean against the window sill as he checked his arm, which, although extremely painful, didn't appear to be broken, and the pain was already subsiding rapidly. Although he would very much have preferred to stand and wait a little longer to recover, when it came to humans, there was no time to waste and he quickly ducked into the peach colored interior of the laundry room. Leaping down onto the shiny metallic surface of a tumble drier, or frontloaded washing machine he couldn't really tell, he then jumped down onto the shiny tile floor and headed straight for the door on his left. As he stepped put into the main house, he quickly turned left again and scurried across the expanse of powder-blue carpet toward the kitchen. After that it was just a quick dash across more black and white checkered tiles and another much easier climb up a column of pullout draws onto the counter from where he leapt toward the doorknob utilizing his own weight to twist the knob, which surprisingly wasn't locked, before dropping down just as the door swung open to a small group of animals who immediately gasped in surprise as they were treated to possibly their first glimpse of a human kitchen.

"Tah-dah!" RJ said with wide grin, "What are you waiting' for, an invitation? Go nuts!"

At this RJ suddenly found himself almost trampled by the adolescent mammals as they eagerly stampeded into the kitchen and immediately set to work ransacking the place. He couldn't help giving an impressed whistle, watching them rifle through the pantry and refrigerator with incredible gusto. Admitedly, a little more clumsily than he would have preferred.

"Good job Heather," he commented, only now realizing as he turned to face her that both she and Keith had disappeared, most likely having ventured out of the kitchen and started searching the house for more interesting items.

As he gazed toward the doorway he quickly noticed that the two boys he'd ordered to guard the wagon had rather surprisingly chosen to follow orders and were currently standing on either side of the wagon striking ridiculous looking military poses. With a small chuckle RJ returned his attention to the kitchen and ran over to the pantry where he quickly climbed up checking each individual shelf and grabbing a few things for himself; a twenty four pack of Twinkies, two tubes of Spuddies and box of genuine pina colada chocolate liqueurs that he found stuffed right at the back of the topmost shelf, each of which he hastily stuffed into his golf bag before anyone else could notice.  
After a bit more personal pilfering, RJ then set about helping the kids to pile a mountain of food onto the wagon even going so far as to do much of the roping himself, not that there was much to it.

Eventually Heather and Keith turned up again, rather perplexingly empty-handed, but still eager to help out with what remained, and a few minutes later they were ready to go with a wagon piled high with junk food and stomachs filled to bursting with all manners of human treats. RJ then ordered the entire gang to assemble just outside the door where Heather gave a final roll call just to be sure.

"Wow Tubby, not bad for the first haul of the season," Jay commented, once again standing on RJ's shoulder as he and the rest of the gang walked triumphantly across the lawn toward the hedge in the glare of midmorning sun.

"Don't I know it? Just you wait to see the look on Verne's face, it'll be priceless," said RJ, as he gazed with pride upon his handiwork.

"I dunno Tubs, Mildude's been pretty hard to impress lately. I think you've surprised him so many times he just expects this kinda thing now," Jay remarked, "You know like last year when you and those porcupines stole his shell and he ended up walking butt-naked right into the that Bad Bunnies' meeting."

RJ couldn't help laughing, "Yeah but it was actually Spike's idea, and Quillo took the shell, plus Bucky was the one who led him into the meeting with that ransom note. I was just an accessory."

"You filmed it and put it on Youtube," Jay pointed out.

"Hey, seven hundred hits and counting can't be wrong. Besides you laughed too," RJ replied.

"You know, Tubs, with all the extra time you got on your paws why don't you ever actually try looking for girl?" Jay suggested, "You know as opposed to tormenting Mildude."

"Oh no, don't you start that again. I told you, I'm single and that's the way I like it," RJ said, "You can tell that to Verne when we get back."

"So it's that simple eh?" Jay asked.

"Yeah and next time he tries to bribe you remember that whatever he offers you, I'll double it if you can keep your beak shut," RJ continued.

"You know I'm gonna hold to you that from now on right?" Jay remarked, "Besides I was just gonna suggest that you at least try and score yourself some tail this season."

"Jay!" RJ exclaimed.

"Heh, sorry man, but _that_ was an honest suggestion" Jay said with cheeky grin.

"Okay, well tell me Jay, do you really even have a girl?"

Jay just laughed, "Oh no, you got me," he replied sarcastically, spreading his wings to take flight, "You know I should probably get going. That welcoming party isn't gonna arrange itself."

With that Jay soared into the sky and for the next half an hour RJ walked alone, until finally deciding that it would be markedly less boring to converse with the kids, and surprisingly he didn't find it half-bad, although the remaining hour and half walk did still drag on quite heavily.

"So you're saying that you're fur is green because green rhymes with mean?" RJ asked, having just been discussing with the Bad Bunny his most ridiculous of fur color choices.

"Yeah and Rex got his dyed red coz it it's the color of blood. So you see their both tough colors, and we're the tough bunnies, so it totally fits," the rabbit replied.

"Why don't you, like, just try acting tough, you know beating up nerds and stuff. Coz I gotta say, that color makes you look a little gay to be honest," Heather interjected from behind the rabbit and raccoon.

"You dissin' my color sister?" said the rabbit, "Coz if you are you better watch it or I'll pound you so- ah ah ow!"

RJ laughed as Heather grabbed hold of both of the rabbit's ears and began to slowly twist them together, while all the rabbit could do was stand there and whimper in pain.

"Sorry what was that again? Something about pounding someone, me maybe?" Heather asked in a mocking tone.

"N-no, nothing m-miss," the rabbit whimpered.

"Good," Heather said, releasing the rabbit's ears so that they snapped back into his own face, "And don't call me miss."

"Heh, heh, look at you miss nasty," said RJ, watching the rabbit slink away toward his equally unimpressive pals.

"Hey those little freaks are annoying. I swear sometimes, it's like I just wanna," Heather threw a phony punch into the palm of her other paw, "Wham! You know."

RJ chuckled.

"What?" Heather asked.

"You haven't changed one bit have you?" RJ asked.

"Huh, who?"

"You. You haven't changed at all since I met you. I mean five years and it's still like you're that weird, smart-alecky, daddy's girl, air-guitaring her way through all those Good Charlotte albums," RJ replied.

"You were totally not supposed to see that," Heather said with a small laugh.

"Still."

"Hey watch it buster, I got a boyfriend!" Heather exclaimed with a playful smile.

"No one's asking," RJ replied innocently, "By the way how are things going between you two?"

"Great I guess," answered Heather, "Thanks for the present by the way."

"Aw, don't tell me you've already…"

"Don't worry I only used a little just to try it out," Heather continued over him, "And yeah I guess it works."

RJ couldn't help but recall the mysterious disappearance of both Heather and Keith during the raid and it suddenly clicked in his mind exactly what those sneaky possums must have been up to.

'Heh, go figure," he quietly thought aloud to himself.

"Eh?"

"Nothing," RJ replied quickly, "Say did you ever get around to telling him?"

"Uh, telling him what exactly?"

"Uh, a few weeks after I met you guys. That night before hibernation, it was just you and me under moon light,

"Shh, quiet" Heather exclaimed, slapping a paw around RJ's muzzle to muffle the final few words, "No I didn't, and I wasn't going to."

RJ couldn't help feeling a little crestfallen, and his drooping ears certainly showed it. Heck they'd only been together for _four months!_

"Look RJ, it was fun, it was a great ride while it lasted," Heather said, keeping her voice low as she spoke, and tightening her grip on RJ's muzzle as he tried to snicker at the unintended suggestiveness of what she'd had just said, "And I'm real happy we're still friends but if I told Keith I'd dated a twenty-seven year old raccoon for four months, he'd think I was desperate or loopy or both! Especially if I told him that I also slept with that raccoon, and that raccoon was _you_. I mean look at you, sure you were pretty decent then, but now. Well you're kinda fat for one thing, and your fur's always a mess. Now I've been keeping quiet about it but I gotta tell you, you've really let yourself go." Despite her sudden and seemingly unprovoked sharpness, Heather's eyes quickly began to soften as she looked into RJ's and her paw rapidly loosened and fell away from his snout, "I know I can still see that charming, fast talking, low-down punk who risked everything to save all of our asses; but Keith doesn't. He never knew that RJ. All he knows is this snack food snarfing, lazy jerk who hangs out with a bunch of friends who are all one hundred percent certified losers."

"How is that you can stand there and tell me that I'm a complete loser and yet it just makes you seem sexier?" RJ asked with a boyish grin.

"Coz you never take it personally," Heather answered, regaining her usual cheerful disposition, "It's why I had such crush on you to begin with. And you were, like, the only male around who was single, older than twelve and not my dad. Plus you were kind of a badass."

"Wow, really?" RJ exclaimed.

"Nah, not really," she said with a smile, "But you had an awesome CD collection."

Looking up from Heather's face RJ noticed that Keith was watching them and as she turned to face him, so did Heather.

"See ya RJ," she said, as she hurriedly walked away toward Keith, in all likelihood about to spin the excuse of the century, throwing back over her shoulder as went, "Oh, and by the way, that 'miss' thing applies to you too".

After giving a brief farewell nod to Heather as she and Keith joined the rabble of excited mammals around the wagon RJ was forced to walk the remaining few minute of the journey by himself. Of course it was with an immense sense of relief that he pushed through the final few layers of shrubbery and stepped out into the sunlit expanse of the clearing.  
Unsurprisingly a number of relieved looking parents were waiting there, along with a small gathering of other woodland animals that had come along to watch the triumphant return, among whom RJ spotted the likes of Verne and the rest of the family, except for Hammy strangely enough. However with a bruised elbow and some seriously sore feet from hauling a heavy bag full of loot all the way from the north-side, the last thing this raccoon needed was a manic squirrel bouncing around him. All he really wanted right now was to put his feet up with a few snacks and watch some good old, relaxing midday television, and he knew just where to get it.

*** * ***

A few hours later, RJ lay on his personal hammock in a small secluded corner of the woods not far from the family's log, surrounded by a small number of human items that he had collected and stored here for his own personal use. One of which was a small color T.V that he had managed to balance on the opposite end of the hammock, which he happened to be watching right now with a half-eaten cupcake in one paw and a universal remote in the other. At first this little den had just been an inconspicuous hole in the hill behind the clearing but after setting it up as his own private winter locale during his second year in El Rancho Camelot, this place had become more or less a personal hideout that he used whenever he felt he needed a little alone time or a place to stash some of his more personal items. As far as he knew none of the other animals knew about it and that was exactly the way he liked it.

Thankfully, all his elbow seemed to have needed was a good long rest and thanks to a four hour _Friends _marathon he'd managed to catch it was now well on the road to recovery.  
After stuffing the last of the cupcake in his mouth RJ shuffled into a sitting position and yawned loudly just as the final scene began to fade out on the T.V and the credits began to role marking the end of the marathon. With no particular hurry he slid both his legs off the hammock, pausing for a moment to hit the off button on the remote before jumping onto the grass below and throwing the remote underneath the hammock for safekeeping before he started toward the small entrance/exit hole. An entire afternoon spent lying around while stuffing himself and watching T.V with occasional bathroom breaks between episodes had caused him to work up quite a thirst, and unfortunately the only place to find cold drinks around here was the mini-fridge in the grove.

Luckily it was only a short, mostly downhill walk from his den to the clearing and when RJ arrived he was unsurprised to see most of family hanging around there. Stella and Tiger were sitting idly by the log just chatting, Ozzie was sitting against a tree in the shade next to the pond with his nose buried in a thick paperback and Lou was standing with Spike and Bucky on the bank of the pond, apparently fishing with improvised rods. None of them seemed to notice the raccoon as he casually crossed the clearing and passed under the conifer and into the grove where all the pilfered human stuff was kept. There he found most of the rest of the family; Penny and Verne, who were playing a game of checkers on a small fold-out table and Quillo sitting in front of the T.V busily mashing the trigger on an Xbox controller to the familiar rhythm of simulated gunfire and head splattering. RJ quickly walked passed them all as he made his way to the small mini-fridge which stood next to the food wagon.

"Hello RJ," came Verne's voice.

RJ gave an irritable sigh, "Hey Verne," he begrudgingly replied as he pulled open the fridge door and began browsing the assortment of chilled snacks and drinks that sat on the shelves inside.

"I heard about that heist today," Verne continued nervously, most likely because Jay must have informed him about the fact that RJ had worked out that it was he who had bribed Jay into trying to convince the raccoon to give up the freewheeling bachelor lifestyle he knew and loved.

"Yeah, and?" asked RJ.

"I just wanted to say nice job," said Verne, "You got all the food and no one got killed or horribly maimed."

"Uh, thanks. I guess," the raccoon replied, grasping two cans of root beer in one paw while continuing to search the fridge with the other, "Hey, do we have any blueberry soda?"

"Blueberry what?" exclaimed Verne.

'_I take that as a no,'_ RJ thought to himself before grabbing a third root beer and kicking the door shut as gently as he could with his hind-paw.

"Look, RJ, I just want to say sorry for what happened with Jay this morning," Verne continued warily, "I-I wasn't thinking when I told him say what he said. I should have known you'd take offense to it and I'm really sorry."

"Forget it," he replied dismissively, now making his way toward the food pile, "You were just doing what you always do."

"Which is?"

"Being Verne," answered RJ, stopping in front of the wagon to browse the snack choices, "You were just lookin' out for us, for me, and I aint gonna hold you to that."

"Erm, thanks RJ," said Verne, his voice lightening significantly.

"No problem," RJ replied as he came to a stop in front of the food wagon. Although he'd only really come for the root beer just one look at the towering mountain of food on top of the wagon was enough to make stomach quake with hunger pangs, "Look just do me favor alright? If you wanna talk to me, just do it yourself from now on."

"Sure thing RJ," Verne replied happily, as the raccoon put down one of the root beers before using his free paw to snatch up a pack of chips, "Oh, umm, RJ?"

"What now?"

"You haven't seen Hammy around have you?"

RJ paused with the top of the foil packet halfway to his mouth. He quickly lowered the packet again and turned to face Verne, who, along with Penny had actually turned away from their game and were looking straight at RJ with looks of grave concern.

"No, why?" he asked.

"Well, he's been missing since this morning. We've asked around but no one's seen him. Stella and I were going to go look for him soon," said Verne, "Did you see him during the heist at all?"

"No," RJ replied, and as he answered he noticed the concerned look in Verne's eyes deepen significantly before the turtle turned back to face Penny.

"I think we'd better go get Lou and Stella."

"I think you're right there, Verne," Penny replied.

"Sorry about the game," Verne added apologetically, as he stood up and started toward the exit.

"Don't worry about it, you were gonna win anyway," Penny responded, in her usual friendly manner as she joined Verne at the exit, "You wanna come n' help out RJ?"

"Uh, well, I'm a little busy at the moment," RJ lied, and despite their attempts at looks of understanding he could still see the immense disapproval burning in their eyes, "Look you know how he is with directions. He's probably just a little lost that's all. I'm sure he'll turn up fine, he always does doesn't he?"

"Jeepers, I hope you're right," Penny said as she and Verne turned and walked out into the clearing leaving RJ pretty much alone in the grove, save for Quillo who hadn't seemed to notice him yet.

"_What? Do they expect me to feel guilty or something? It's not my fault if that stupid squ__irrel went and got himself lost," _RJ thought to himself as he stuffed the packet into his mouth and grabbed up the root beer he'd had to put down, "_Besides what's the worst that could happen, nothing in this place is fast enough to catch that kid except a car, or maybe a bullet! Wait a second, could he… No that's impossible." _RJ immediately started toward the back exit between two broad leaved bushes; yes it led into the woodlands but he would rather take the roundabout way than the suffer evil eye from the rest of the family, _"He doesn't even know the first thing about them let alone what you do with them."_

With that RJ dismissed the thought from his mind and continued through the dense undergrowth, hopefully toward his hideout, although he wasn't quite sure since he didn't take the back path much; usually only when he left for the winter. Still it wasn't like he didn't know the way, and before long he noticed a few landmarks he recognized, which was a pretty good indication that he was on the right track even if it was taking him a lot longer than he'd originally expected. The root beers were starting to get a little warm though and the humidity rising from the still soggy ground wasn't helping much.

"RJ!" a voice cried; a voice he distinctly recognized and unfortunately one that also sounded utterly terrified.

"What the-" the raccoon began, but was cut short by the force of small furry object slamming into him at near supersonic speed, knocking all the cans out of his paws and almost knocking over RJ himself as well as causing him to drop the chips.

"RJ, RJ, RJ!" the small red squirrel cried.

"Hammy!" RJ exclaimed, still a little dazed from the collision.

"He wants to eat me!"

"Who wants what?" RJ asked, but he could only really watch in confusion as Hammy gibbered incomprehensibly and pointed toward something. He quickly grabbed hold of the Hammy's shoulders very firmly in an attempt to hold him still, "Hammy calm down, calm down!"

After a few seconds the squirrel fell silent but RJ noticed that the poor kid was still shaking terribly, and as if that wasn't enough the look of wide eyed terror he saw on the young squirrels face was more than enough to tell him that he wasn't kidding around.

"Who is?" RJ asked, staring directly into the squirrel's bright green eyes, "Who's tryin' to eat you?"

"The monster," Hammy replied.

"What monster, where?" RJ exclaimed.

"The mean, slinky one," said Hammy.

RJ frowned, "Slinky? Hammy what the heck are you talking about?"

"The m-" Hammy suddenly fell silent as his eyes widened in pupil shrinking terror as they became fixed upon something behind RJ, and the raccoon had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't Verne.

Sure enough as RJ slowly turned to face it, his eyes did not fall on a whiney neurotic box turtle but on a creature the likes of which he'd never seen before. A creature with short dark fur, stubby legs, and a long, slinky body reminiscent of a mongoose. But, given the display of some nasty looking teeth and the hungry look in its eyes, he gathered this one wasn't here for snakes.

"Hi there," said RJ, trying his best to sound nonchalant, "I'm RJ, and this is Hammy," he indicated the squirrel cowering behind him; "I think you know him."

The animal snarled menacingly.

"Hey, whoa, c'mon man I aint raccoon chow. I've got feelings and right now you're making me kinda nervous, and you're scarin' my man Hammy here half to death," RJ continued, backing away a little just in case, "Say, are you on diet by any chance? Coz I gotta tell ya' I'm not quite what you'd call lean meat, if you know what mean."

The creature took a step toward them, its eyes fixed almost unblinkingly on Hammy, and RJ couldn't help noting the oddly malevolent grin it seemed to be brandishing.

"Oh, you want to eat Hammy. Erm, well, I don't think you'd enjoy him either. I mean I tried squirrel once, way too chewy," RJ continued, well aware that he would probably have to explain that to Hammy later; if there was a later, "I mean look at him, do you see any meat on that?"

The animal slowly continued to advance toward him, and RJ subsequently began to back away further.

"Hey, wait, wait, wait, I'm not finished," RJ continued, well aware that he was now quite obviously pleading, "How about a deal? You let us live and… erm… by any chance do you like possum?"

Suddenly the creature leapt forward, snarling, knocking RJ to ground and pinning him beneath its claws. RJ instinctively threw his arms up in front of his face and shut his eyes, as the creatures teeth bore down on him. Somewhere he could here Hammy's terrified whimpers, but only found himself silently cursing the squirrel's monumental uselessness.  
Without really thinking and with his eyes still shut tightly, RJ quickly reached upward and grabbed hold of a fistful of the animals fur, pulling on it with all the strength he could muster while ignoring the odd prickling sensation that had begun in his upper arm. As he opened his eyes, he was only just in time to see one curled paw just before it smashed into his jaw. RJ responded by kicking the creature's stomach, only to find it roughly equivalent to kicking a brick wall. The animal responded immediately by snapping its head forward and sinking its teeth into RJ's right shoulder. Once again feeling little more than another odd prickle, RJ kicked it again this time a lot lower.  
The animal suddenly released RJ's shoulder with a menacing snarl and leapt away from him, swinging its head back and crying out in what sounded like intense pain. It was only then that RJ caught a whiff off what was possibly the single worst smell in olfactory history; a smell so bad that actually found himself coughing and spluttering from the sheer magnitude of its pungent odor. Yet it was somehow familiar, and as bad as it was he couldn't have been happier to be smelling it at this moment. The monster must have also scented the horrible stench, as rather than resuming its attack it instead bolted from the scene into the surrounding foliage with nary a backwards glance.

"Hammy!" he heard Verne's voice cry.

"Jeepers! It's RJ. Guys it's RJ!" Lou called.

"Yeah, ow, it's RJ," the raccoon said dryly, as he slowly pulled himself to his feet, wincing with pain as the adrenalin began to wear off and gentle prickling slowly grew into noticeable stinging and aching.

"What the heck happened to ya'?" Lou asked as he and a small group of familiar faces began to crowd around the recently savaged raccoon.

"It was the monster," Hammy cried, perhaps a bit melodramatically as he grabbed his tail and proceeded to hide behind it.

Everyone turned to RJ for confirmation.

"What he said," he stated impatiently.

"A monster?" replied Stella, with more than little curiosity in her voice as RJ spat a mixture of blood and spit onto the ground and cursed under his breath as his muzzle erupted in agony.

"Jeepers!" Lou exclaimed, "Do ya' think we should tell the fellas."

"What do you think Needlebutt?" came Jays voice from somewhere above them.

Lou eyed the blue Jay irritably before turning to Verne, "Whatdya' think, should we tell 'em?"

"I dunno," Verne answered, with one hand trying and failing to restrain his rapidly vibrating tail, "Hammy, what did it look like?"

Hammy, still wide eyed and shaking, slowly poked his head up from behind his bushy orange tail, "I-it was big and s -s-scary and really, really slinky."

What followed was an almost unanimous gasp from just about everyone except RJ, who, apart from being completely ignored, was far too busy checking his mouth for any missing teeth. Fortunately all appeared present and accounted for.

"Yeah, I know a big scary monster, woohoo," he said in a ridiculously nasally voice as he held a bloodied leaf to his nose both because of the smell and because the copious amount of blood trickling from one of his nostrils, "Now can we please get out of here before we all suffocate. No offense Stella."

* * *

**You know after recently undergoing major surgery to remove my head from own arse, I came to the realization that excessively long expositional paragraphs with _way_ too many adjectives were extremly annoying and boring to read, so I've asked my editor, i.e my brother, to help me to cut back on my adjective addiction. Unfortunately he seems to be a real fan of adding overlong action descriptions after every bloody line of dialogue, and detests the use of the word 'said'. Come to think of it most writers seem to possess a morbid fear of that word, seriously what's with that? You know sometimes 'said' is really all that needs to be said (Godawful pun totally intendended.)**

**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME IF MY CHARACTERIZATIONS ARE IN ANY WAY OFF!!! (And if so I strongly encourage any recommendations you can give me as to how I can improve them.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Now before you continue with yet another masterfully written addition to my beloved magnum opus (I kid really, I'm not that good and I know it), can I just ask why the heck no one seems to review anything anymore. I keep checking my traffic figures and for some reason I see plenty of unique hits, but no new reviews. How the heck are writers supposed to get any better without feedback? If you don't like it TELL ME! I don't know what you do but I write to entertain, and I don't like the idea of writing something that no one likes but they won't tell me what's wrong. **

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Chapter 3

Raccoon Pizza with Cheese

"So it was a slinky monster?" Heather asked, as she pulled open what had to be the third bottle of spaghetti sauce, dipping her paw into the bottle and slathering a pawful of red-wine tomato onto RJ's uninjured shoulder.

"Yeah, and it was big and scary and toothy and… really mean," Hammy replied.

"Ow, watch it!" RJ exclaimed, as Heather began to rub spaghetti sauce into the fur on his bitten shoulder, causing the bite to sting terribly as it came in contact with the tomato juice, "Do you _have_ do that shoulder now?"

"I dunno, do you wanna go on smelling like skunk stink?" Heather remarked.

RJ just took another mouthful from the root beer can he was holding, grumbling irritably to himself and wincing in pain as Heather added another slather of sauce to the bite.

"Go on Hammy," Heather said, and the red squirrel, who was already coated from head to foot in tomato paste, immediately ceased licking the sauce from his paws and happily launched back into his account of the afternoon's events.

RJ listened as well, although to be honest he was hardly paying attention after already having heard the story twice since he and the others had returned a few minutes ago whereupon they were all immediately encouraged, nay, forced to be tomatoed down in order to remove the skunk odor. Thankfully, when it came to RJ's turn, it was Heather who had volunteered to put her nose on the line for him and Hammy, which was why he was sitting here in the grove next to food wagon with Heather, Hammy and Jay, as the former painted his entire body with anything she could find that contained tomatoes.  
Lou and Verne had already been de-skunked by Penny and were currently standing in the clearing being hosed down and only they knew who was doing that. He could only imagine how embarrassing this would be for Verne; that turtle wasn't exactly keen on having to take his shell off in public.

"Hey RJ stand up," Heather ordered, turning to Jay and Hammy "You guys might wanna turn around."

"Oooh, you getting' nasty now?" Jay asked with false eagerness.

"Just do what she says," said RJ, draining the root beer can before obediently getting to his feet and watching as Jay turned around and Hammy pulled his tail in front of his face giving a thumbs up as his eyes disappeared behind it, "I'm so glad you're the one doing this," he said to Heather.

"Who else would?" she remarked, as she began to paste the end of his tail, moving steadily down to the base.

"Good point," RJ replied.

"Still, you should probably close your eyes and think about sport or something," Heather suggested, "And when I say sport I mean football not foxy-boxing or something like that. I don't want Keith to get the wrong idea."

Although he couldn't really see how Keith could _not _get the wrong idea anyway, RJ did as he was told without a complaint, closing his eyes and trying as hard as he could to concentrate on the NFL scores, which was difficult considering the fact that he didn't really care about them. He just watched it for the comic appeal that came with watching impossibly fit human beings knocking the stuffing out of each other over a small leather ball. Plus it was pretty hard to ignore the soothing yet sensual sensation of tomato sauce being slathered all over his lower body by his ex-girlfriend.

Unable to help himself RJ rather stupidly decided to verbalize his thoughts, "You know, I gotta wonder why you didn't think of this when we were together. It would have been pretty fun," he remarked in a whisper so as not to be overheard by the other two.

"You do know where my paws are right now don't you?" Heather asked in response, affecting a tone of false menace.

"Yeah, but I'm okay with it."

"Look, could you please be quite," she whispered, "This isn't exactly easy for me you know."

"It aint easy missin' what you had," RJ quipped with a boyish grin.

"True and that'll go double for you if you don't shut up, like, right now!" Heather exclaimed, and it didn't take half a brain to know what she meant. So RJ decided not to risk it, remaining perfectly still and quiet for the remaining duration all the time trying his hardest to keep his thoughts as clean as possible. But nothing could really distract him from the simple fact of just how nice it felt to have warm tomato paste massaged into his fur.

"There, done," Heather announced as she too stood up, "Okay you guys can look now."

"Too late," said Jay, who had in fact been watching the entire time, pretty typical of him really, "Jeez Tubs you look like a pizza."

"Raccoon with extra cheese, no anchovies," Hammy added, as he released his tail.

"Dude, do you see any cheese on that?" Jay asked.

Hammy stared at RJ for a few moments before answering, "Hey! There's no cheese, rip off!"

"What!" Jay exclaimed.

"They're gonna be sooo mad when they find out," Hammy continued.

"Who, Hammy?" Jay asked in slightly exasperated tone.

"The people who ordered the pizza," the squirrel answered very matter-of-factly.

Jay just rolled his eyes and turned to RJ, "Remind me again why you hang around with him?"

"He's family," the raccoon answered, "Besides he's a pretty good kid."

"Ugh, don't make me puke," Jay remarked, as Hammy moved on from licking the spaghetti sauce from his fore-paws to licking it off his feet.

"Okay, that's just gross," Heather chimed in as she grabbed a pack of disposable handi-wipes presumably to clean the spaghetti sauce off her paws, "Hammy?"

"Huh?" the squirrel's ears perked up as he stopped what he was doing and focused his attention on Heather.

"You can go and get clean now; you don't have to stay here," she said, speaking with the slow, pleasant tone people normally used to address an infant.

"I don't want to," Hammy whined.

"Why?"

"The slinky monster?" Jay asked, with a smirk.

Hammy gave an embarrassed nod.

Heather sighed, "Don't worry Hammy, everyone else'll be out their with you too. It's totally safe."

"But I want to stay with RJ," Hammy replied.

Frankly this didn't surprise RJ in the slightest, after the incident this afternoon Hammy had stuck to him like a limpet. This had been especially prevalent on the journey back during which Hammy had spent the entire duration clinging to RJ's right forepaw.

"It's okay I'll go with him," he said, noticing the squirrels ears perk up happily, "I can't wait to get this crap off me anyway."

"Okay, see ya' when you get back," Heather replied, as RJ started toward the clearing with Hammy hot on his heels.

In truth RJ wasn't looking forward to the hose. Yes being a furry mammal meant that wet or dry his personals remained personal but he and many of the other males still considered being absolutely soaked the animal equivalent of a human who had been stripped down to their underwear; especially if the human was wearing briefs. What was worse was that they were hosing them down next to the pond, right in the middle of the clearing in full view from all sides.

"So who's first?" asked Bucky, with one paw wrapped around the nozzle of bright green garden hose.

"Oooh oooh, me, pick me!" Hammy cried happily, jumping up and down with one arm held high in the air. It was no secret that he loved being hosed on a summer day, most of the kids did, but Hammy was always the most enthusiastic by far.

"Okay stand right there," Bucky pointed to a spot on the grass just in front of the pond, already well and truly soaked with watered down tomato paste.

Hammy immediately zipped forward into position, his tail twitching with eager anticipation as Bucky aimed the hose in his direction.

"Okay," he called, "You ready there Hammy?"

The squirrel nodded excitedly.

"Okay here goes," Bucky yelled as he twisted the nozzle sending forth a surprisingly powerful jet of water; perhaps a little too powerful actually.

RJ couldn't help but chuckle as Hammy was sent flying into pond letting out an ecstatic "Whee!" as flew through the air before hitting the surface of the water with a small splash.

"Oops!" Bucky exclaimed, as he shut off the hose nozzle, "I think I turned it too far that time."

RJ shot a nervous glance the direction of the porcupine, all of sudden lacking any faith he may have had in the possibility that he would still retain some dignity after this.

"That was fun; can I go again, pretty please?" Hammy called, as he crawled out of the water after having swum his way to the bank.

To be honest RJ would have been happy to just say yes, but Bucky was already indicating for him to take up position exactly where Hammy had been standing.

"Wait you're turn Hammy," Spike announced, stopping beside his brother after having just popped out of the hedge, "Don't worry uncle RJ, he'll be more careful this time, won't you Bucky?"

"Uh huh," the other porcupine agreed.

RJ just sighed as he moved into position, "Hit me!"

Luckily for RJ, this time around Bucky had chosen the Wide setting as opposed to the Narrow setting, so instead of a concentrated jet of freezing cold splashing him in the face he was drenched by a softer, yet equally cold shower of water droplets.  
For a few minutes he stood under the water, busily rubbing the tomato sauce from his fur with his paws, turning around every now and then to allow his back to receive a decent hosing down as well; all the while trying to keep his mind off the fact that he was standing in the middle of the clearing being drenched right down to his skin for all to see. The most he could probably hope for was that some attractive females might happen to be watching, and maybe, just maybe one of them might take notice of the beige highlights he'd added to his tail last Fall.

"Alright, that's enough guys!" he called, once he was relatively certain that he'd removed most of the tomato pulp, although he was still sure he'd need a bath in Nate and Noreen's hot tub later, just to be sure.

Bucky quickly shut off the hose. "See ya' uncle RJ," he called, as the dripping wet raccoon hastily started toward the grove and out of view with an equally saturated Hammy following close behind.

"See ya' guys," RJ called back to them, ducking underneath the conifer and making a beeline for the towels.

"Hiya RJ," he heard Heather announce from the direction of the television, "Don't worry I'm not looking."

RJ shot a glance in the direction of the T.V and sure enough Heather's eyes were indeed glued to the screen, however, unfortunately everyone else's eyes were fixed solely on him with looks of surprise and amusement.

"Uh, hey guys," he announced, feeling his cheeks becoming warm as he blushed with embarrassment beneath his fur, and he quickly grabbed for a lime-green beach towel which he hastily wrapped around his waist before making his way back out of the grove.

As he approached the edge of the clearing and began his short hike up the hill to his den, RJ quickly unwrapped the towel and began to dry himself off. He honestly didn't care about the fact that Hammy was still following him, working with the logic that A: Hammy had no sense of public decency and B: Perhaps if RJ let him stay in his hideout for a while the squirrel might actually have a chance to calm down.  
Besides it wasn't like he'd be staying very long, it was only about an hour until sunset and RJ always made sure to sleep with the rest of the family during spring, summer and autumn because, contrary to popular belief, he actually did like spending time with them.

About half-way up the hill he spotted the small thicket of thorn bushes that grew over the entrance and he immediately started toward it.

"Turning in a little early aren't we?" a distinctly feminine voice asked.

RJ froze just outside the den entrance, searching the surrounding with his eyes for a few moments until spotted a young female raccoon leaning against a nearby tree just a few feet away. He recognized her instantly, no other animal in woods possessed the bizarre enough dress sense to wear a pink satin bow on their head.

"So that's how it works huh?" asked the raccoon, known to RJ as Luby, "You just turn up at my winter spot, throw out a few half-baked compliments and convince me to let you stay, and then just disappear the minute the snow stops falling?" RJ opened his mouth to comment but Luby just talked over him, "You know I actually started to think that my friends had been wrong about you. That maybe you might just be a nice guy with a bad rep and some personal hygiene issues, but no, you're exactly what they told me. A self obsessed user! It was just like Velma said, 'He's all over you one moment but then you wake up, rollover and he'll be gone'."

"I wouldn't say all over you, just on top of you really," RJ remarked with grin, as he draped the now fur covered towel over his shoulder.

Luby's eyes narrowed menacingly, "You're such an ass," she growled.

The best Hammy could seem to do was just confusedly glance back and forth as the two raccoons argued. RJ couldn't really blame him; the kid probably didn't even understand females let alone what you do with them.

"Aw c'mon Lu," RJ said, "You can't say you didn't enjoy having me around."

"You know what? I honestly can't see what the hell those morons see in you," she pointed meaningfully at Hammy, before wrinkling her nose in disgust "God, you both stink."

"Uh, that was Stella actually but thanks for noticing," RJ pointed out rather smugly.

Luby immediately turned around and stalked away into the undergrowth leaving RJ and Hammy alone outside the den.

RJ just sighed as he watched her disappear, "Women."

"Huh?" Hammy asked curiously.

"Don't worry about it Hamilton, you wouldn't understand," he replied as he turned and began to part the thicket, revealing the entrance to his hideout, _"And if nature has any sense at all you never will."_

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**I should probably mention that Nate and Noreen are also comic characters, go ahead, go to "comics .com" if you don't believe me. You'd have to go back pretty far though coz they haven't appeared in about two years.  
**

**By the way Chapter 4 might take me a while because quite frankly I have no idea what to write (I don't care what other authors say, writer's block _is_ real), and I was really looking forward to writing chapters 5 and 6 too.**

**Anyway, ah hem, *gets down on hand and knees* PLEASE REVIEW!!!**


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